


something always brings me back to you

by ayelles



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayelles/pseuds/ayelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>She doesn't think about Neptune. But sometimes, she wonders about the people she knew there.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	something always brings me back to you

**Author's Note:**

> Set a year before the movie; following the movie cannon (so, spoilers for that).

 

_Something always brings me back to you_   
_It never takes too long_   
_No matter what I say or do_   
_I still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone_

\- Gravity, Sara Bareilles

i. 

She doesn't miss Neptune. She isn't sad about spending another sweltering summer commuting through New York humidity. She - and her dad - are proud of the corporate litigation internship where she is slaving away her last moments of vacation before graduating law school. She doesn't think about Neptune, its 72 and sunny days, its hodgepodge of a population, its tendency for scandal. 

No, the real estate of her brain devoted to Neptune is a locked closet behind a curtain in the darkest corner of her mind. 

And then the Navarro case shows up on her desk.

Every intern is mandated one pro-bono case during their twelve weeks at Sutter Edelstein Parks and Associates. She was originally assigned to a liquor store robbery but it turned out the client was both guilty and open to confessing. The associates on the case hadn't even needed an intern to bargain on sentencing with the District Attorney's office. 

So, six weeks - halfway - into her internship, she is assigned the Navarro case. 

It doesn't make her think about Weevil, not at first. She knows its a fairly common last name and she hasn't seen the PCH bike gang leader in the eight years since she left Neptune. Her mind doesn't automatically connect dots like that anymore. 

It isn't until she meets the client that her breath hitches. It's not Weevil, not really. But at the same time, almost. It's probably racial profiling that another bald eighteen year old Latino reminds her so much of her high school - friend? acquaintance? associate? - so much of Weevil, but he does. And for the first time in years, she is wondering about the biker.

Dad would have told her if anything bad ever happened to Weevil. He's  kept her in the loop of the big things, but glazed over everything else. They both know she prefers it that way. Hell, Keith prefers that she prefers it that way. 

She thinks about whether Weevil made it to the straight and narrow while she's supposed to be taking notes on Alberto Navarro's deposition. 

This kid, in his baggy jeans and oversized Yankees hoodie in 86 degree weather, looks at her with the same scorn for authority she once wore like armor. She wonders if Weevil still wears that look, or if like her, it's mellowed out over eight years of being an adult.

She doesn't think about Neptune. But sometimes, she wonders about the people she knew there.

 

ii.

_What are you up to?_ _Let's get a drink to mourn the death of the weekend._

Katie is one of the handful of friends that has made the past eight weeks at Sutter Edelstein bearable. A student at Georgetown Law, Katie's summer sublet is just a few blocks from Veronica's apartment and extremely convenient for making last minute drinking plans.

Twenty minutes later, the two women are ordering beers from an unfamiliar yet gorgeous scruffy bartender instead of Harrison, the skinny hipster or Miyako, the rocker chick. 

"Are you new?" Katie asks flirtatiously.

"Yeah, this is my first weekend here. Are you regulars?"

"You could say that. I'm Katie and this is Veronica. We like our Brooklyn Lager, so keep 'em coming." When she adds a wink to punctuate the last sentence, Veronica can't help but roll her eyes.

"Thanks," she says, accepting the pint glass with an apologetic smile. 

Once they find a table, Katie begins to detail why Veronica should date scruffy bartender. Reasons include "you haven't had a date all summer", "consider how convenient it is to date someone that works in the neighborhood", "he's so hot" and "when was the last time you had sex?"

The last reason isn't really a reason, more like a blunt question from a friend halfway through her first beer. Veronica's about to tell her that she just isn't interested in the bartender when Katie gasps.

"What is it?" Veronica follows her friend's gaze to the entrance of the bar. Nothing there seems out of the ordinary, except for a party of four idling by the door.

"Nothing, it was stupid. When that couple walked in I thought it was Bonnie DeVille and Logan Echolls," she says with a laugh, shaking her head. 

All the air in Veronica's lungs disappears in an instant, an elephant-like weight crushing her rib cage. 

Logan Echolls.

She hasn't heard that name in years. Sure, it's played on a celebrity entertainment show while she's been at the nail salon. Sure, she's seen it on tabloid covers every so often. Sure, she's managed to transfer his phone number to  _every new phone_  she's ever had over the past eight years. 

But everyone knows not to talk about him. Not to her at least. 

She tries to return to conversation with Katie without looking like she's been punched in the gut. But now, Katie's lecture on why should date - or at least just sleep with - scruffy bartender forms different images in her mind. Ones that seem a lot like memories of her 19-year-old self and a certain ex-boyfriend. 

She blames it on the two more beers she has before finally calling it a night. She blames it on Katie's non-stop insistence that she "get back in the saddle". She blames it on the thoughts of Neptune that have sprung up since the Navarro case landed on her desk. She blames it on Katie mistaking some random guy for him.

There's a lot of things she could blame it on, but it doesn't change the fact that that night she dreams of Logan Echolls.

 

iii.

To celebrate the close of the Navarro case, the associates decide to catch a show at the Highline Ballroom. Even for the pro-bono cases, they find a way to expense this back to the firm. Veronicca goes because this, as much as the actual lawyering, is what lawyers do. Spend money and drink on the corporate card.

"So what do you think, Mars? One more year til this is your full-time life." Cesar has been her mentor throughout the internship process. She's pretty sure all her hard work has reflected nicely on him and that he'll be getting some sort of bonus for that.

"That's the plan!" she says, her voice too bright for her own liking. It fits though, with her cropped black slacks and off-white linen blazer. It's all part of Veronica Mars, New York Law Student.

"Great! Because we're going to need a really strong set of first year associates next year." Leah, a third year associate on the partner track, gives her a warm smile. "In the meantime, I have no idea what this band is but I know that another whiskey sour will make them sound amazing." 

"I'll go with you," Veronica volunteers, navigating her way around the rest of the group.

As part of their small talk on the way to the bar, Leah asks what Veronica thought of the Navarro case. She doesn't know why she replies the way she does, but the first thing out of her mouth is, "I'm glad we got it down to probation. He reminds me a lot of an old friend."

"Were you friends with a lot of Latin Kings out in California?" Leah quirks an eyebrow.

"I used to have a pretty killer set of friends," she replies, smiling smugly to herself at the use of the word killer. All the many murder accusations ago, they all used to be friends. And then she realizes that she's talking about Neptune. 

For eight years, she's done a really great job of giving vague answers to "where are you from" and "what was that like". She's never said yes when anyone asked if she had plans to move back. She hasn't thought of the weight of a taser or the use of a camera's intense zoom lens. The physical distance has been a mental one as well.

These last few weeks have opened up the closet door. The Navarro case. The mention of Logan. The dreams of Logan. Neptune just keeps showing up.

"Veronica Mars?" 

Both she and Leah turn to the origin of the voice. 

Of course, it's Stosh Piznarski. 

 

iv.

It takes three weeks to schedule dinner with Piz. Law school has started back up again with a vengeance and his texts remain unanswered for days.

_I haven't seen you since graduation. You look great._ It was only a little awkward to run into him while with her boss - well, a boss-like figure. He was still the same Piz that she had broken up with after freshman year of college. He was still the same Piz that gave her a bear hug when she attended Wallace's Heart graduation party.

Of all the people that could walk back into her life from Neptune, Piz was the least disarming. He carried no baggage of Lilly's murder and her family's ostracization. He never met Cassidy Casablancas, never was affiliated with her rape, never was accused of murder, never smashed her headlights.

Piz might be someone she met in Neptune, but he wasn't  _from_  Neptune. That made all the difference in the world.

_We should get dinner sometime. You can call me. I still have the same number from college._  She feels like a jerk when she has to ask for his number after he says that. She goes on about her technological ineptitude and he gives her a lopsided grin saying he understands.

Finally, they agree to get dinner in the West Village on a Tuesday. Conversation is easy, it always has been with Piz. He regales her with his radio misadventures and music festival mishaps. She tells him about Stanford and the decision to take the LSAT. 

They reference Wallace and Mac, but skip over other words. The ones like: Hearst, Logan, sex tape, Logan, scandal, Logan. She wonders if he can see her thinking the forbidden L-word a hundred different moments between the bread basket and dessert.

In the cab home, she calls Wallace.

"So you went on a date with Piz?"

"It wasn't a date. We were just catching up!"

"Veronica, did the man follow up with you for three weeks to set this up? Did he choose a place that served tiramisu? Did he put on a jacket? Did he foot the bill?"

"Yes, he also walked like a duck and quacked like a duck. But I'm not interested right now." She almost adds  _because it's been over a month and I still dream of Logan._ But she's not willing to admit it to herself right now, much less to Wallace.

"There are worse guys you could be dating. Or re-dating, for that matter."

"Wallace, it wasn't a date. I'm not re-dating Piz and I'm definitely not re-dating Mark - so your future Knicks tickets are safe."

"C'mon Veronica, you know Mark isn't the worst person you could re-date. Is that even a word by the way?"

"You can technically add 're' as a prefix to any word and have it make sense. Whether or not it's recognized in the dictionary is a different story."

"Lawyered."

"Ha. Who even needs this third year of law school? Anyway, you were saying about the devils I could re-date."

"Who else, Veronica? Logan."

 

v. 

One dinner with Piz leads to another the next week. Then, drinks on the weekend and a show when some  _oh my god you won't believe how good they are_  band plays at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. Then, more dinners. And finally, a kiss.

She is still in full law school mode and he doesn't ask to hear from her ninety times a day. He never shows up on campus unannounced to take her to lunch or steal her away for an afternoon. He holds her hand and hangs out with her friends. It feels almost exactly like the first time around.

With the exception of the missing glare from a certain ex-boyfriend.

Law school consumes so much of her brain that the thoughts of Neptune start retreating back to the allotted closet in her mind. She stops jerking her head up at the sound of motorbikes, hoping to catch Weevil's grin. She stops meandering around the tabloids at the bodega, wondering if she'll catch a paparazzi-eyed view of him.

He stops showing up in her dreams. 

She won't admit it, but she hates that part. It bothered her, yes, that after eight years of radio silence, her subconscious creates him just as beautiful as he was at 19. But even in her dreams, their connection is just as electric.

She misses those dreams. The ones where her body remembers all the things they discovered together the first time. The ones where they just lay together in a bed somewhere, his fingers stroking up and down her back until the stress of the world melts away. The ones where he tells her he loves her.

Dating Piz again seems to be the reconciliation she needed between New York and Neptune. Those summer weeks of all roads leading to Neptune were just a blip on the radar, and now, she's back to her real life.

She doesn't miss Neptune, she reminds herself again. What about it would she miss?

 


End file.
